


The Grass Widow's finest

by Rhapsody the Bard (Rhapsody)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/F, Prostitution, Tolkien Femslash Week, Tolkien Femslash Week Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7549027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhapsody/pseuds/Rhapsody%20the%20Bard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an eerie encounter with a will-o'-the-wisp, Tauriel finds her comfort at a Laketown Inn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grass Widow's finest

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tolkien Femslash Week Bingo. I made use of the following prompts from the Book Title card N27 The Grass Widow and G36 The Paying Guests. I combined it with the story element prompt N27 A will-o'-the-wisp.

“So watcha callin’ it again?” Ivy the waitress leaned closer over the counter, eager to hear more details about the chilling adventure Tauriel had shortly experienced before. Her mission had been simple: pass on a message to the vintner of The Paying Guest here in Laketown. Of course she had heard of stories of the haunted dead marshes where the candles of ghosts would lure those captivated by it to a certain death.

Yet, the corruption of the realm she had vowed to protect, to see that eerie light had given her the chills. This was something she had to report to her king, and not to some buxom lady who for some reason considered herself to be her personal waitress the moment she set foot in this cosy Inn.

“Some might call it a ghost candle. Like folklore would have it alike those of the Dead Marshes.” Tauriel replied and drank deeply from her ale. It was not the best she once had, but she had tasted much worse in this town.

“Ow lurvvv, I’ve heard ‘bout those. Some merchan’ from te’East hav lost good people to those. Some call them a will-o'-the-wisp. No mistaken with whips. ” Tauriel tried to break away her gaze from the waitress who just so cheekily winked at her, but she could not help herself to wonder how much deeper Ivy would have to bent before her breasts would escape the corset.

“Hmm, you like ‘tem huh,” Ivy crowed in delight, “For’a few pennies more you can burrie yer pretty nose in it if you’ll like. Perhaps som’ more if yer up to it.”  
It was not something she had planned, Tauriel pondered, but then again who would want to set out during this chill evening. Mirkwood would wait, Thranduil’s dratted order could wait. She fingered her pouch and withdrew two golden coins from it. Ivy’s eyes grew big and she quickly started to untie her apron. “I ‘like the way you think, lurvve. Full service for the night her’ at the Grass Widow, special Ivy’s price. Come.”

Tauriel shoved back her chair and finished her cup. It was about time for some much needed reprieve. Perhaps encountering this will-o'-the-wisp had not been such a bad thing after all.


End file.
